


Gloves

by therentistoodamnhigh



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Ecto-Genitalia (Undertale), Ecto-Tongue (Undertale), M/M, Misuse of Operating Tables, Sans Has a Bad Time, W. D. Gaster Being An Asshole, am i allowed to use that tag, based on the theory that Papyrus is Gaster, i'm using it anyway, meant to be read by absolute monstrous garbage only, my first finished fic in this fandom is this thing what the hell happened, no actual Sans/Papyrus, things being done in labs that should not be done in labs, weird incestuous overtones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-03
Updated: 2016-11-03
Packaged: 2018-08-28 18:55:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8459098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therentistoodamnhigh/pseuds/therentistoodamnhigh
Summary: Gaster has returned from his time in the void and wants Sans back in his life as his lover, just like the old days. It doesn’t help that Sans doesn’t remember him. Neither does the fact that Gaster looks exactly like Papyrus.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is inspired by [THIS](http://eli-sin-g.tumblr.com/post/151755926863/eli-i-had-a-dream-last-night-where-i-asked-you-to) picture by eli-sin-g on tumblr and [THIS](http://batter-sempai.tumblr.com/post/144305609933/crack-theory) theory that Papyrus is Gaster (or Gaster is Papyrus?? idk). This was also beta-read by the wonderful [maximum_overboner](http://archiveofourown.org/users/maximum_overboner/pseuds/maximum_overboner)! Check out their work too, it's pretty great! This was my first foray into both smut and non-con, so if you have any constructive criticism for me that'd be pretty neat. I also have some other work on my [tumblr](http://the-rent-is-too-damn-high.tumblr.com/), if you want to check it out.
> 
> Also, I was listening to "Give Me More" by We Are Temporary on repeat while writing this and I think it fits pretty well, so you can listen to it [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rENn1QB-InQ) to get into the mood for this fic.
> 
> Without further ado, enjoy the fic!

The halogen lights above the operating table were bright, so blindingly bright that Sans could almost see each individual shadow the from the particles of dust there, arranged in the silhouette of the monster that lay there mere seconds ago. The lights pounded into his skull, hurting his eyes from where he stood in the shadows next to the computer displays, which were comparatively gentle on his eyes.

“Get me a new pair of gloves, Sans,” said the tall skeleton in front of the operating table. His face was neutral and impassive, the surgical mask over his mouth and nose spattered with droplets of blood. Monsters turned to dust when they died, but that didn’t stop them from spraying blood everywhere beforehand. The monster turned his face towards Sans and raised an eyebrow expectantly. The face of his dear, sweet, baby brother Papyrus stared back at him with cold eyes.

That’s… not quite accurate, though. It was certainly Papyrus' face, but it had originally been Gaster's face, back before he had accidentally erased his memory from everyone's minds, including his own. Gaster, as a bodiless entity, had been relegated to the void, forced to watch reality move on without him, to watch his body gain an identity completely separate from the one that previously occupied it, sprouting from the virtually clean slate of a soul that had been left behind with his body. When Frisk saved everyone in the underground, that had included Gaster, too, and so he had emerged from the void in a shiny new body completely identical to his previous one- and also completely soulless.

“Sans? My dearest assistant?” Gaster’s voice - Papyrus’ voice really, but smoother, deeper, and used all wrong - shook Sans out of his sudden reverie.

“sure thing, doc.” Sans turned away from the searing lights, grateful for a reprieve. He moved to a nearby supply closet and fished out a new pair of latex gloves for Gaster to use. He sighed, still unused to and sickened by Gaster’s strange affection for him.

It had turned out that Gaster and Sans had been in a _very_ romantic relationship before he was erased. Sans had found out for himself this fact the very first moment the two had met when Gaster, who had been just Papyrus’ doppelganger at the time, had waltzed right up to him kissed him passionately on the teeth. Gaster had later gone into excruciating detail on the specifics of what that relationship entailed, much to Papyrus’ and Sans’ collective chagrin and horror. Papyrus, because _his own hands_ had done that stuff to Sans, his dearest brother, even if he didn’t remember it. Sans, because had let someone with _his brother’s face_ do that stuff to him, even if he had been entirely complicit in everything, even if he didn’t remember. His bones had touched his brother’s bones in inappropriate places and it unsettled him to a degree he didn’t know how to articulate.

Sans had done everything he could to push Gaster away but Gaster, being the lovestruck and soulless bastard he was, didn’t give a single damn about that. Gaster had been nothing but polite and charming in his efforts to woo Sans, right up until his patience wore out and he pulled out an ultimatum: he would tell Papyrus every last one of Sans’ dirty secrets unless Sans became his assistant once again. Backed into a corner as he was, Sans had been dragged practically kicking and screaming back into the morally dubious world of science.

Sans reluctantly turned back to where Gaster waited, dreading what he was sure was coming next. Could practically feel it in his bones.

Gaster was sweeping up the dust with a couple of extra hands when Sans returned with the gloves. He turned at Sans’ approach, the whole front of his scrubs practically drenched in blood from sternum to patella.

“here ya go, doc.” Sans tossed the gloves onto a clean portion of the table. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his lab coat.

The corners of Gaster’s eye sockets crinkled up in a smile. “Thank you, my dear.” He delicately took off the gloves, tossed them into the trash, and pulled on the new pair.

The action distinctly reminded Sans of the time Papyrus had cut up some hot peppers for a dish, insistent on wearing special gloves so nothing got into his eyes, even though skeletons didn’t have eyes. The way Papyrus had carefully taken off those seed-covered gloves afterwards exactly mirrored the way Gaster was peeling off his bloody latex ones, right down to the peculiar finger wiggle when he put on a new pair.

 _Muscle memory_ , his mind whispered. The irony of the statement strained his grin a little.

Gaster stepped up to Sans, pulling down his surgical mask. He smiled down at Sans with utter affection and placed two fingers beneath Sans’ chin, tilting it upwards.

Sans closed his eyes as Gaster leaned down to kiss him, but only to spare himself the sight of Gaster’s face so close to his. It was getting easier to swallow down the nausea these days.

The kiss was lingering and slow, a gentle slide of teeth across teeth. Sans was pulled in closer to Gaster, one hand on his hip and the other cupping his cervical vertebrae, and his mouth moved away, only to drag a wet tongue across his teeth. _And there it is_ , Sans thought bitterly, his hands clenched into fists in his pockets. He kept his teeth firmly shut, but the hand gripping his hip clenched tighter and tighter until Sans was forced to open his mouth - whether to cry out in pain or to tell Gaster to stop, he wasn’t sure - but Gaster’s tongue shoved itself inside his mouth before any sound could come out.

Sans summoned his tongue on reflex to push out the invasive tongue, but the effort only served to make Gaster’s tongue slide further down his throat. Skeletons didn’t have lungs to stifle, but Sans choked on the slimy thing anyway, agonizingly long moments passing while tears built up in the corners of his shut eye sockets. _It’s not Papyrus. I’m doing this for Papyrus,_ Sans chanted internally.

Gaster pulled away with a wet sound and wiped away the drool escaping the corner of Sans’ mouth with a thumb. “We’ve been working hard today, haven’t we, Sans?”

“yep, sure have,” Sans said, keeping his voice level and eyes closed.

“Sans.” There was a warning note in Gaster’s voice.

Sans didn’t respond.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you, Sans.” The hand on his hip gripped a little tighter.

Sans wasn’t in the mood to test him so he reluctantly opened his eyes to the sight of Gaster’s cold, almost angry expression.

Gaster’s face softened and he smiled. “There’s a good boy,” he cooed. Gaster clanked a kiss against Sans’ forehead. He pulled Sans’ hands out of his pockets and wrapped Sans’ arms around Gaster’s own waist. Gaster mirrored the position on Sans and pulled Sans flush against him.

“I was thinking,” Gaster began, “that since we’ve been working so hard, we could take a break.”

Sans stayed silent. He _really_ didn’t like where this was going.

“I was thinking.” Gaster’s hands moved slowly down Sans’ spine. “That we could take a nice, long _break_.” The word was emphasized with a firm hand on Sans’ sacrum and coccyx.

Sans froze, eyelights blinking out abruptly. _You’ve got to be joking,_ Sans thought. _There’s no way. He wouldn’t, would he?_ Sans had endured Gaster’s kisses, his too-familiar affections, his intimate touches, but this? To have sex with him? To be _raped_ by him? No, there was no way he’d let him do that. Sans would retain his dignity in this at least, damn the consequences.

Sans snapped himself out of his terror-frozen state and raised his hands, pushing hard against Gaster. “no. no, we can’t. i can’t- you can’t- _i won’t let you do that._ ”

Gaster just laughed, holding Sans in his embrace like Sans was just a toddler throwing a tantrum. “Oh, come now, Sans, we’ll have fun! Just give it a try.” His voice was light and airy as he turned and plopped the still-struggling Sans onto the operating table.

“no! no, stop! gaster, stop!” Sans squirmed in Gaster’s too-tight hold, grinding the dust still on the table into the fabric of his lab coat.

“Stop squirming, Sans, you won’t have any fun with me if you keep struggling like that.” Gaster was smiling, mouth curved upwards like he was actually having _fun_ watching Sans struggle.

“no i won’t stop! let go of me!” Sans gripped Gaster’s blood-soaked scrubs and a blue iris lit up in Sans’ left eye. “ **l e t   g o   o f   m e**.”

Sans pushed with his magic at Gaster to shove him away and… absolutely nothing happened. Sans soul turned to ice, remembering too late that magic doesn’t work on the void, least of all creatures born from it like Gaster had been. The iris blinked out, leaving only empty sockets.

Gaster laughed a low, amused chuckle. “That’s cute, Sans, very cute.” The hands that had been sweeping up dust earlier dropped their utensils and moved to Gaster’s sides. “You honestly thought you could do something to me.” More sets of hands slowly materialized behind Gaster as he spoke. He still smirked but his voice turned dark. “You’ll lay down like a good boy and take what I give to you, Sans.”

The hands darted towards Sans faster than he could blink. One set twisted his forearms behind his back and kept them there. Another two forced him down onto the dust-covered table and pinned him by his shoulders and the vertebrae just below his ribs. Yet another set grabbed his femurs just above the knees and lifted them up and apart, forcing them close to his ribs.

Sans was left reeling from the change, feeling terribly exposed with his clothed pelvis in full view of Gaster and virtually blinded by the lights above. He gasped loudly, the noise sounding dangerously close to the beginnings of a sob. Sans squirmed, testing his bonds. The hands gripped a little tighter in response, keeping him firmly in place. A sense of helpless, hopeless dread rose in his chest. _It’s not Papyrus._

“Good boy. You don’t want Papyrus to find out about what you did during the resets, do you?” Gaster’s voice was low and firm, prompting Sans to respond.

Sans shook his head quickly, feeling the grit of dust on the back of his skull.

“Good,” he breathed. Sans felt Gaster lean into him. “Then don’t struggle. Now just lay still and this won’t hurt too much.”

Sans felt Gaster’s hands fiddling at the front of his dress shirt and cold air slowly washed over his ribs as his shirt was unbuttoned and pushed to the sides. The summoned hands gripping his spine readjusted their grip on the bare bones. Sans’ breath hitched at the sensation of bone on his vertebrae. _It’s not Papyrus. I’m doing this for Papyrus._

Gaster briefly rubbed at the front of Sans’ pelvis through the cloth before moving to the belt buckle. The clinking of the buckle sounded unnaturally loud in the quiet as Gaster slowly removed it. Gaster unbuttoned and unzipped Sans pants and latex rubbed against the sensitive pubic symphysis, sending an unpleasantly pleasant shiver through Sans. Gaster removed Sans’ pants and shoes and placed his hands on Sans’ hips, gently rubbing his thumbs on the bone there.

Sans cracked open his eyes to look at Gaster when he made no further moves. He was smiling adoringly down at Sans, looking exactly like Papyrus in Sans’ blurry vision. “You’re so beautiful, Sans.” He leaned down and kissed Sans’ jaw. “I’m going to make you feel so good, Sans, just you wait and see.”

Sans’ breath heaved, strained by the unnatural arch of his spine. Tears welled in the corners of his eye sockets. _It’s not Papyrus. I’m doing this for Papyrus._

Gaster straightened and began gently rubbing the curves of Sans’ ischium with both hands, igniting every sensitive spot there in nauseating arousal, like he’d done it a hundred times before. He firmly rubbed the inner side of his pubic symphysis and stared at Sans like he was waiting for something.

“ngh!” Sans jerked in his hold, failing to choke down the reflexive noise of pleasure. _It’s not Papyrus,_ Sans thought desperately.

Gaster grinned in satisfaction. He rubbed harder at the spot and began rubbing at the border between Sans’ coccyx and sacrum to heighten Sans’ pleasure.

Sans squirmed and jerked, simultaneously trying to get sensation from a source other than what Gaster was giving him and trying not to struggle enough to warrant retaliation. It did nothing, of course, and a rush of shame and humiliation lit up his face as magic began swirling in the lower portion of his pelvic cradle. He desperately tried to call the magic back to himself.

“Good boy,” Gaster cooed. “Just let it come, Sans. Show me your pretty, dripping pussy.” He began rubbing at the bone to direct the magic in the shape he desired.

Sans began to cry quietly, tears streaming down the sides of his skull to wet the dust. Pale blue magic began to take the shape of a soft blue mound over his ischium. _It’s not Papyrus. It’s not Papyrus._

Gaster leaned down and lapped at Sans’ tears. “Oh, don’t cry, Sans, I’m making you feel good, aren’t I?” He began licking and sucking at Sans’ cervical vertebrae.

Sans gasped out a wet sob, feeling totally helpless as his own magic betrayed him, fully solidifying into the soft folds of a vulva already damp at the entrance. _It’s not Papyrus._

“Very good, Sans,” Gaster said, cloyingly sweet. “You have such a beautiful cunt.” Gaster moved down to his hips and licked a long, slow stripe up the center, paying careful attention to Sans’ clitoris. “Tastes good, too.”

Sans resisted the urge to arch his back, but failed to keep his hips from twitching into the stimulation. He grit his teeth. Stars, Gaster was _way_ too familiar with his sensitive spots.

Gaster made an amused noise between Sans’ femurs and started going to town on him. His tongue pressed at Sans’ entrance, coaxing the reluctant muscles to stretch. Helpless sobs filtered through Sans’ teeth as Gaster’s tongue probed further into his entrance, dragging thick fluid out with every firm press along his walls.

The licking and sucking went on for long, torturous minutes. Wet noises filled the room as Sans desperately tried to deny the slow, inevitable build of pleasure within him. _It’s not Papyrus. I’m doing this for Papyrus._

When Gaster’s teeth began to dig into his clitoris, he pulled away, licking his teeth. “You know, Sans, the last time we did this you were already begging me to fuck you.”

Sans nearly gagged. “‘last time’? what do you _mean_ , ‘last time’?!” he spat.

Gaster rubbed a latex-covered phalange at Sans’ entrance. He smiled genuinely. “Why, we were lovers of course! Well, when you remembered me, that is.” The finger slipped in with a distressing amount of ease. “Ahh, we were so in love.” He sighed almost dreamily. His finger began moving in and out, slicking up the passageway further.

“i can’t believe i fell in love with bastard like you,” Sans hissed.

Gaster pressed his thumb into Sans’ clit, far too firmly to be pleasant. “Well, you’re entitled to your opinion. It just happens to be wrong.” The too-firm pressure switched to a gentle circling. He leaned down to Sans’ head and whispered, “I’m going to make you fall in love with me. It’ll be just like the old days.” He slowly worked another finger in and licked at Sans’ jaw.

Sans clenched his jaw against the hiss pressing into his teeth in response to the burn of his walls as Gaster began scissoring his fingers. “i will never fall in love with you.”

Gaster huffed a low noise of amusement into the crook Sans’ neck. “Cute.” He crooked his fingers into a particular spot within Sans, and the small skeleton thrashed at the sudden spike of pleasure.

“i hate you,” he bit out. _It’s not Papyrus. I’m doing this for Papyrus._

“No you don’t.” Gaster began working in a third finger, relentlessly stabbing into that sensitive spot. Once the three fingers were pumping smoothly in and out of Sans, he straightened up, pulled his fingers out, and began to undo his pants. He sighed as he freed his fully hard cock, which had manifested the moment Sans had lain naked and spread beneath him.

Sans stilled at the sound of Gaster’s belt buckle. Oh god, this was really happening, wasn’t it? He was about to be raped by his boss and there was nothing he could do to stop it. Without warning, something hot and heavy laid against the length of his cunt and Sans had to swallow down the urge to vomit. _It’s not Papyrus. I’m doing this for Papyrus._

Gaster gently rocked his hips, smearing Sans’ slick down the underside of his cock. “You’re so wet, Sans, and it’s all for me.” He swiped his fingers along Sans’ entrance and pumped his cock a couple times, making sure it was fully lubricated. He leaned back down, pressing his torso flush with Sans’. “You’re such a good boy, Sans,” he whispered huskily into the side of Sans’ skull. “Stars, it’s been so long since I’ve been with you like this I just want to ram my cock deep inside your soaking pussy. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, Sans?” He placed his hands on Sans’ hips.

“no,” Sans spat bitterly. “just get it over with, you bastard.”

Gaster laughed gently. “Well, if you insist,” he said teasingly, “then I’m obliged to provide, my dear.”

Sans’ only warning was the head of Gaster’s cock pressing briefly against his entrance before Gaster thrusted hard, hilting himself in one swift motion. He screamed, tossing his head back and writhing in pain. The lights above seemed to shine brighter against the backdrop of the scintillating pain in his groin and the hulking silhouette of Gaster’s looming form. _It’s not Papyrus. It’s not Papyrus._ Sans could hear Gaster groaning as his scream tapered off. He heaved a few breaths, tears streaming down his face.

“Oh hush, you big baby,” Gaster said, his voice sounding tight. “It wasn’t _that_ bad. Oh, _stars_ , you’re even tighter than I remember. Hnng, _fuck_.” Gaster pulled out achingly slow, the magical flesh of his cock dragging against every bump within Sans. He pushed back in just as slowly, groaning in satisfaction as he did so.

Sans let out a helpless whine at the stretch, watching Gaster’s dick push into his translucent flesh through the narrow slats in his ribs. _It’s not Papyrus._

“You feel _amazing_ , Sans. My wonderful assistant. My beautiful lover.” Gaster licked at Sans’ cervical vertebrae sensually and slowly sped up the pace of his thrusting.

Sans’ arousal had been virtually killed by that first brutal thrust and he’d been grateful, but now the pace Gaster had set was forcing it to build again. The way Gaster’s cock rubbed along the upper side of Sans’ walls seemed to spark and ignite within him, all the way up his lumbar spine, and he twitched and shivered helplessly at the sensation. Sans was hyper aware of how loud his gasps and choked-off moans and sobs were in the quiet of the lab. His shame and revulsion grew, amplified by the wet sounds of Gaster driving his cock in and out, while his resolve to keep at least a small measure of dignity eroded thinner and thinner. _It’s not Papyrus._

Gaster continued to lick at Sans’ bones, ever so slowly speeding up his pace. He whispered hollow encouragements and dirty praises to him, telling Sans how _tight_ and how _hot_ his cunt was, Sans just loved getting rammed by Gaster’s big, thick cock, didn’t he? And oh, Sans was so _beautiful_ like this, Gaster just wanted to keep him like this forever, don’t you agree, Sans, wouldn’t that be the most _wondrous_ ecstasy?

The last threads of Sans’ dignity frayed entirely and he began sobbing in earnest, doing so loudly and brokenly and feeling utterly betrayed by both Gaster and his own body. _I’m doing this for Papyrus._

“Oh hush, my darling, are you really that upset?” Gaster cooed. “Don’t worry, my love, I’ll make you feel so much better.” He adjusted his grip on Sans and redoubled his efforts, thrusting harder into him.

Sans stared up at the lights, the corners of his eye sockets stinging as tears wore their tracks along the sides of his skull. Time lost meaning while Gaster’s ministrations seemed to last for a small eternity. The hard, steady thrusts; the circling of his clit; the wet, sucking heat on his bones; the scraping of bone on bone as Gaster’s many hands adjusted their grip on him; the stimulation all seemed to blend into each other and he jerked and writhed as Gaster’s will demanded. Pleasure washed over Sans in never-ending waves, his arousal rising and plateauing over and over in small increments, pressing him relentlessly towards that peak of ecstasy he so desperately wanted to avoid.

_It’s not Papyrus. I’m doing this for Papyrus._

Eventually, Sans’ arousal passed an all-too familiar event horizon: he was going to come, and _soon_. His struggling began anew, even as his walls started to rhythmically clench down on Gaster.

“Yesss,” Gaster hissed delightedly. “I told you I would make you feel good. Come for me, my love, let yourself fall to pieces beneath me.” Gaster gripped Sans’ iliac crests firmly and began thrusting hard and fast, hitting the sensitive spot within Sans with unflinching accuracy.

No, Sans didn’t _want_ this, this was all wrong; part of his mind still wanted to deny that his was happening at all and coming would make it real, but he didn’t _want_ it to be real.

_It’s not Papyrus._

“Come.” Thrust. “For.” Thrust. “Me.” Thrust. “Sans.”

_I’m doing this for Papyrus._

Air displaced near Sans’ cunt as Gaster summoned a hand exclusively to rub firmly at Sans’ clit. That peak was close, so dangerously close. Sans abandoned his sobbing to begin vocalizing loudly.

_It’s not Papyrus._

Gaster sucked hard on Sans’ cervical vertebrae. Oh stars, he was going to come, he was going to come-

_I’m doing this for Papyrus._

Sans’ walls clenched down hard as he came, orgasm crashing into his pelvis.

_It’s not-_

“Papyrus!” Sans cried out.

Gaster stopped abruptly, cock hilted fully within Sans. He pulled away from the crook of Sans’ neck, the loss of hot breath leaving Sans feeling cold in it’s absence.

Humiliation and fear washed through Sans as he stared up at Gaster’s cold, hard expression. This was it, he was either going to get dusted, fired, or both, possibly in that order. He began trembling, fearing the consequences of his impulsive cry.

Gaster said nothing, pulling slowly out of Sans. The hands dematerialized, letting Sans’ legs fall with a clatter to the table, and he turned around to face away from Sans. Gaster dismissed his still-hard cock and zipped up his pants and just stood there for a few moments.

Sans stared up at the lights, lightly rattling against the metal table and tears streaming silently down his face. His legs dangled over the edge, but he didn’t dare move his arms from their position beneath his ribcage.

Gaster turned, letting Sans see his face in profile. He pulled the face mask back over his mouth and began peeling off his gloves, slick with Sans’ juices.

Gaster’s voice was frigid and venomous. “Get me a new pair of gloves, Sans. Now.”

Sans just sobbed, lying limply against the table. Slowly, he gathered himself, quieting his sobs and wiping his eyes. His genitalia had disappeared the moment Gaster pulled out and the bones of his pelvis were left achy and tender in its wake. He sat up slowly and then gingerly hopped off the table, but immediately collapsed to his knees.

“Today, Sans.”

Sans inhaled shakily as he slowly stood up, using the operating table for support. With shaky fingers, he pulled on his clothes and buttoned up his shirt. His mind was blank as he limped carefully over to the supply closet. When he caught sight of his reflection in the nearby machinery, all he could think was _stars, how am i going to explain these blood stains to papyrus?_

Papyrus.

Oh, stars above and earth below, Sans was never going to be able to look at Papyrus the same way ever again.


End file.
